“Where Fortune bears us, than my sire more kind,There let us go, my own, my gallant crew.'Tis Teucer leads, 'tis Teucer breathes the wind;No more despair; Apollo's word is true.Another Salamis in kindlier airShall yet arise. Hearts, that have borne with meWorse buffets! drown today in wine your care;To-morrow we recross the wide, wide sea!”Lydia, by all above,Why bear so hard on Sybaris, to ruin him with love?What change has made him shunThe playing-ground, who once so well could bear the dust and sun?